The men in tan suits had unwrapped their
silver-coated butter and were carefully spearing
it with their forks.

The stewardess gave us each a small bag of
Hawaiian potato chips. "I've got some Haitian
chips," said Uncle Roger. His briefcase was open
on the plastic tray where the burrito had been.
Inside the briefcase were about ten ziplock plastic bags
full of small chips covered with tiny gold lines.


Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy
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